Chapter Twenty-Five
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
As a struggling young man who loved rock and roll, Sam couldn’t afford the luxury of seeing his favorite bands in concert, so he’d stand outside the venues hoping to hear them from afar. Now, at every show, he held back a dozen tickets for enthusiastic fans in the same situation. The ticket on hold for Marilyn was one of them, and he intended to use it to teach the spoiled princess a lesson.
He had instructed the staff at the will call window to text him the moment Marilyn Sanders arrived. He had received the message, and was scouring the area, searching for her long blonde hair, when he saw her marching towards one of the security gates. He assumed she was hoping to bribe her way backstage. Breaking into a jog, he reached her just as she was pulling out her wallet.
“How about five-hundred dollars?” he heard her say, but the beefy guard saw Sam running towards them and hastily shook his head.
“Nope, can’t do it, sorry,” he said gruffly.
“A thousand then,” Marilyn insisted. “How can you turn down a thousand dollars just to open a gate?”
Sam grabbed her elbow.
Spinning around, she stared up at him in shock.
“Sam, p-please, let me explain.”
Ignoring her bleated plea, he hustled her to a quiet area, snatched her purse, and searched out her ticket.
“What are you doing?”
“Don’t speak,” he growled, lifting a one-hundred-dollar bill from her wallet, “not one single word!”
Grasping her arm in a fierce grip, he walked her through the crowd until he spotted a young woman wandering aimlessly around wearing a Cash Colt sweatshirt.
“Excuse me,” he said warmly, lifting the ID hanging around his neck, “my name is Sam Reed and I work with Cash.”
“Isn’t this a public area? Sorry, do I have to leave?”
“No, you don’t need to leave. Are you looking to buy a ticket?”
“I couldn’t possibly afford that,” she sighed. “I’m just hoping I might be able to hear something from out here.”
“What’s your name?”
“Allison Bennett.”
“Hello, Allison. Every concert I save a few tickets and come outside to give them away to deserving fans, and tonight, that deserving fan is you.”
The young woman gazed at him in disbelief like a deer in headlights.
“Here you are,” he continued, handing it to her. “You’ll be in the very front row.”
“Is this a j-joke?” she stammered, staring at him with wide eyes.
“No joke, and here’s one-hundred dollars. Get yourself a new sweatshirt,” he suggested, stuffing the bill into the ticket envelope.
“I can’t believe it,” she exclaimed, her eyes tearing up. “Stuff like this never happens to me.”
“It does now, and after the concert is over, go to the information booth by will call, give them your name, and tell them to buzz Sam Reed. I’ll send someone to bring you backstage, and you can meet Cash and have a drink at the after party.”
“Oh, my God,” she breathed, the happy tears finally escaping, and throwing her arms around him, she hugged him tightly. “Thank you, thank you so, so much, but why are you doing this?” she sputtered stepping back.
“A long time ago, I used to stand outside venues like you are now, hoping to hear the band. One night, a very nice man did for me what I’m now doing for you. When you can, you pass it along.”
“I will, I swear,” she sniffled. “Thank you, again, thank you, thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” he replied. “You’d better go in or you’ll miss the warm up band. Don’t forget, Sam Reed, the information booth by the will call window.”
“I won’t, not in a million years,” she beamed, and breaking into a jog, she ran off to enter the stadium.
“Sam, that was—“ Marilyn began.
“Where’s your car?” he demanded, cutting her off, but as he spoke Andrew’s words echoed through his head.
You can’t spank her unless you fire her.
“Over there,” she replied, pointing to the pool of stretch limos parked nearby.
Sam grunted. He ached to put her across his knee and spank her silly, first with his hand, then a solid wooden paddle.
“Which is yours?”
“Uh, I’m not sure.”
“Text the driver. Tell him to signal his whereabouts.”
“Okay,” she said anxiously, pulling her phone from her bag.
A moment later, Sam saw a limo flash its headlights. Taking her hand and jerking her forward, he marched to the car, opening the door before the driver had the chance and bustling her inside.
“You’re fired!” he exclaimed, leaning his head in, then closing the door, he turned to the startled driver. “I’m Sam Reed, I manage Cash Colt.”
“Uh, nice to meet you, Mr. Reed.”
“You heard me fire her, correct?”
“I certainly did.”
“Do you have a card?”
“Yes, Sir,” the man replied nervously, reaching into his breast pocket and retrieving his wallet. “Here you are, Sir.”
“Peter Townsend,” exclaimed, looking up with a grin.
“My parents were big fans of the The Who,” he said sheepishly. “It’s been a blessing and a curse.”
“I’m sure. Does this limo have a soundproof privacy panel?”
“Yes, Sir, this is a top-of-the-line car. It comes with everything,”
“Excellent,” Sam muttered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a money clip. “Here’s fifty dollars, drive to the back of the arena where the trucks are parked, find a spot near the fence, then take a walk. I’ll text you when you can come back.”
“Yes, Mr. Reed,” the driver replied, reaching to open the back door.
“I’ll do that. You get behind the wheel.”
* * *
As Sam climbed in and sat next to Marilyn, she immediately grabbed his arm and stared at him with pleading eyes.
“Please, please don’t fire me. I’m so sorry.”
“Where are you staying?” he asked brusquely as the car began to move.
She stared at him, not sure how to answer. Though she wanted the job, more than anything else she wanted to be around him, but now he had asked a truly dreadful question, one she absolutely did not want to answer.
“I promise I’ll leave. I swear, I’ll go to the airport right now.”
“I asked where you’re staying?” he repeated impatiently, finding the button to raise the privacy panel.
“You’ll be mad,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze.
“I’m already mad, but let me guess, The Joule.”
“To be honest, I was hoping I might run into you, and I was also hoping I wouldn’t.”
“And Cash? What if you’d run into him?”
“I wouldn’t have caused any trouble.”
“Marilyn,” he said sternly, “when you’re drinking, what little self-control you possess simply flies out the window.”
As the car rolled to a stop, Marilyn glanced out the window. They were still on the stadium grounds, and she saw the driver walking away from the car.
“Look at me,” he said sharply.
Rarely was she speechless, but as she moved her eyes back to him, all she could manage was a nod of her head.
“Open your bag and hand me your hairbrush.”
A cold chill shivered down her spine.
“Now, Marilyn!”
Her butterflies fluttering and her pulse racing, she reached in her designer purse, pulled out the oval wooden hairbrush and handed it to him.
“Sam,” she began hesitantly, “you said I couldn’t go to the concert with you, you didn’t say anything about me going alone.”
His frown deepened, and she instantly regretted making the feeble excuse.
“Who do you think you’re talking to?” he asked gruffly. “Your father? Some dumb-ass boyfriend? You knew when you boarded the plane to fly here you were deliberately going against my orders. Now back to the question at hand,” he continued, raising the hair brush and inwardly grinning at his unintended pun, “what do you suppose I intend to do with this?”
“Uh, spank me,” she whispered, “except you’re my boss and—”
“Not any more! I fired you, remember? And I have a witness. Now I’m just a friend who sees you as a woman in need of some very clear correction.”
“Um, if I sign something agreeing to let you punish me—and you can specify how—will you hire me back?”
He didn’t answer, but narrowed his eyes.
“Please,” she begged, “I know I was wrong. I do, I swear!”
“I’ll think about it. You’ve got three-seconds to crawl over my lap. If you don’t, you’ll never see me again.”
“I’m crawling, I’m crawling,” she said hastily, scrambling over his thighs.
In seconds he had her dress up around her waist, her pantyhose pulled down, and he was landing the brush fiercely against her upturned backside.
“Ow, shit that hurts.”
“No more outbursts,” he warned, swatting her sit spot slicing a howl. “You’re going to learn some self-control, and it will be your ass that will pay the price if you don’t.”
“Okay, okay.”
“I’m going to spank you hard, and not just for blatantly going against my explicit instructions. You may be a beautiful woman, but you’re also a defiant child looking for consequences, and you’re going to feel those consequences right now!”
As he traveled the makeshift wooden paddle from cheek to cheek, she grit her teeth, stifling her squeals, but wriggled furiously as the hot sting burned through her flesh.
“Do you understand I mean what I say?” he asked, pausing for a moment.
“Oh, my God, it really hurts.”
He swatted her, hard, three times in quick succession on both cheeks.
“That wasn’t the answer to my question!”
“Yes, totally,” she whimpered. “I’ll do what you say from now on, I promise.”
“And do you understand what you did?”
“I, uh, I disobeyed you.”
“Much more than that. You put the final concert of a grueling eight-month tour at risk. A concert Cash has worked for his entire life, a concert tens of thousands of people have been looking forward to. All of that was put in jeopardy because of your childish, immature, spoiled brat behavior.”
“How did I do that?”
“You have to ask? Cash’s focus needs to be on his performance, and if he’d seen you getting drunk in the bar at the hotel, or running around backstage, don’t you think he might have been a bit distracted after the crap you pulled?”
“Oh, I, uh, I didn’t think about it.”
“No, you didn’t, because you’re self-absorbed, selfish, and completely indulged,” he scolded. “It’s time to grow up, Marilyn, and if you want to work for me, I’ll need to see a change, and fast.”
He’d been moving his palm over her scalded skin as he’d lectured her, and without warning, his hand began to deliver hot slaps across the width and breadth of her backside. Though she was holding back her squeals, a swell of emotion rose up from her belly, and she burst into tears.
* * *
Stopping abruptly, Sam pulled her up, wrapped his arms around her, and let her sob into his chest. “You poor girl,” he murmured as she sobbed. “Let out all your frustration and anger. Everything will be okay.”
“I get it,” she stammered as she wept “I do, I really do.”
“I know, that’s why you’re crying,” he replied softly, stroking her hair.
“Everything you said is true. I’m a selfish cow and a terrible person.”
“No, you’re not a terrible person, not at all,” he said softly, moving her on his lap so he could look at her.
“How do you know that?”
“A terrible person wouldn’t have had a crisis of conscience about that book, and you did, didn’t you?”
“I, uh, yeah, I guess I did.”
“I’m looking forward to spending time with the Marilyn I know you can be, but this car is taking you back to the hotel. You’ll pack your bag, then fly back to New York, on this flight,” he declared, pulling an economy class ticket from his breast pocket.
“How did you know I’d end up, I mean, we’d end up…?” but her voice trailed off, unable to finish the many questions racing through her head.
“I wanted to be prepared in case you came to your senses.”
But Sam had predicted every move she’d make, though he hadn’t been sure she’d see the light. Like a skilled chess player, he had uncanny foresight, one of the qualities that had led to his success.
“Marilyn, you have no appreciation for your immense good fortune,” he continued. “It’s time to understand how people live, like that lovely young woman who ended up with your ticket. A hundred dollars to her is huge, to you, it’s just another lunch on the Upper Eastside. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, Sam, I’ll try really hard to make you proud of me.”
“I hope so. Take a cab to the airport, stand in line, sit in the back of the plane, cab back to your hotel in New York, and not a drop of alcohol. Is that clear?”
“Yes, it’s clear.”
“Believe me, Marilyn, I will know if you attempt to upgrade to first-class or call for a limo,” he warned. “I have eyes everywhere, and when I see you and ask if you’ve had a drink, I’ll know if you lie to me.”
“I’ll do exactly what you said,” she promised, then slowly wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him on the neck. “Thank you,” she whispered. “It’s weird, but I feel like you really care about me.”
“Of course I care about you,” he murmured, hugging her tightly, suddenly feeling the soft, sweet side of her. “I wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble if I didn’t.”
A smile curled his lips. A single spanking wouldn’t change the habits of a lifetime. There would be many more to follow, along with plenty of other lessons between the sheets.